


further inside than I have ever been

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Creeper von Doom, Creepy, Gen, Gore, Hurt Loki, Torture, Vivisection, Whump, a very nasty fic, okay I think I have covered all my bases there, or is that the other way around?, vivisection as a metaphor for sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7231747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doom has what he wants. Or at least, he has Loki, and he's on the way to getting what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	further inside than I have ever been

**Author's Note:**

> Why did this happen? I’m not sure. I guess I just decided there needed to be more Doctor Doom & Loki weirdly erotic vivisection fic in the world or something. Hopefully the tags cover the necessary warnings but just in case: **vivisection, torture, gore, extremely creepy inner monologues.**
> 
> Takes place the first time Loki gets Doomnapped. (If you want the background for this fic/more creepy Doom POV, read [The Vivisection Mambo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6265768).)
> 
> The title comes from the very creepy song [The Operation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FY8kORP5ok) by Charlotte Gainsbourg.
>
>> Now I'm inside you   
> My hands can feel their way   
> Further inside than I have ever been

Victor von Doom had never been much of a believer. He had never put much stock in any god or gods: the only deity on this planet, he thought, was the man with more power than the rest.

He still felt a deep, transgressive thrill at making a god bleed. It might have made his hands quiver, did he not have impeccable control over himself.

It was not like his fantasies - Loki pliant and willing, submitting, all that power leashed and at Victor’s command - but that did not mean it was worse. There was a different kind of satisfaction in watching Loki fight, and fail, to free himself. Victor did not consider himself a sadist, but Loki had betrayed him, after all.

He cut through another layer of muscle, one hand holding the incision open, opening the last layer that covered bone, parting the connective tissue around it. Victor pulled his hand away, reaching for the separator, and the wound closed, muscle squeezing around his hand. He held still for a moment before sliding the separator in and opening it. He paused, taking a moment to admire his work. The neatness of the incision, the layers of skin and fat and muscle laid out like a book for him to peruse. He would have to remember to take photographs. He should not limit his documentation to written notes.

He looked up slowly to Loki’s face. His eyes were squeezed closed, the line of his jaw suggesting his teeth were clenched. Victor paused and waited. Loki was seldom silent for long.

“Done already?” Loki said, his voice rasping a little. Victor made a note to ensure he was receiving sufficient hydration. He would have to adjust to account for the blood loss. “I hope you are not - _nnh._ Encountering any performance issues.”

“Don’t be crude,” Victor chided. “It does not suit you.”

Loki barked a harsh laugh as Victor set aside the scalpel. “And _this_ does?” His fingers twitched. Victor watched them, but there was no more movement than that.

“Oh, yes,” Victor said, picking up the clamps he’d crafted himself. “It does.” He smiled, knowing it would not be visible but trusting that Loki would hear it. “You do not know how long I dreamed of having you like this.”

“I saw how you looked at me,” Loki said, expression twisting with disgust that sparked a flash of anger. _You think you are so much better than me. But I am the one who overpowered you._ “I knew. But I did not think you were so - arrogant and foolish to actually attack me. Stronger than you have tried to hold me, Victor, and all of them failed.”

Victor slid the clamps into the incision and set them around the bone, beginning to tighten the screws. He watched the way muscle flexed against the separator, heard Loki hiss. He focused his own attention on tightening the clamps. Vibranium forged. He was fairly sure it was strong enough, but this would be the test.

“Aah-!” Loki’s sharp, bitten off scream nearly drowned out the _crunch_ as bone gave way. Victor smiled faintly.

“None of them were Victor von Doom,” he said, picking up a large, hollow needle. “I know you, Loki. And I will know you better before we are done.” He extracted two full syringes of marrow and set them aside to watch the fractured bone knit back together, Loki panting raggedly. The muscle relaxant wearing off already? He would have to adjust the dose. “I will know you inside and out, crack open all your secrets and discover all your mysteries.”

“If you - if you wanted to seduce me this is not the way to - _ah!_ \- go about it,” Loki said, grinning almost madly. Victor shook his head, still watching the bone knit slowly back together, spongy tissue reforming. He wondered if the process hurt. What kind of energy did it require? The exterior wound was trying to close as well, the bleeding noticeably slowed, but with the edges gaping wide it seemed it could not.

Victor stroked his fingers over the unblemished skin alongside the incision. “Extraordinary,” he murmured. Loki shuddered, just barely. Victor couldn’t tell if it was with rage or pain. Perhaps some mix of both. “Truly, you are something unique.”

Loki’s snarl was wordless, his teeth flashing. All that power, and powerless before him. Doom exhaled and took a step back, controlling himself. “I am going to kill you,” Loki said. “I will rip your throat out and _bathe in your blood,_ I will flense the skin from your body and pluck your nerves like harpstrings, I will - _gah!_ ”

Victor watched Loki jerk as the electric current coursed through him, watched his eyes roll back and his body spasm. He did not doubt that Loki meant his threats, and was capable of carrying them out. He did not make the mistake so many did of underestimating Loki. But he knew his own power, too, and he had been preparing for this a long time.

When Loki stopped shaking, Victor approached him, peeling one glove off to turn Loki’s face toward him. Loki’s eyes opened, poison, venom green, pupils dilated wide. “Ah, Loki,” Victor said. “You could have submitted to me willingly.”

Loki spat in his face. Of course it only hit the mask, but Victor still felt a flash of temper, of rage. He stepped away before he could damage his specimen, stripping off his other glove and throwing them both away. A part of him wanted to continue, to carve into Loki’s core now, split him open and lay all his secrets bare-

_Patience,_ he reminded himself. _You have time._

* * *

It had not been a simple thing, crafting what he needed out of pure vibranium. Wakanda’s leader would not speak to him, so he had to operate through back channels, using despicable, petty criminals like Klaue to acquire what he needed.

It was worth it, though. Common metal did little more than scratch Loki’s skin, but under adamantium blades his body opened like a gift.

Victor pinned back the skin, hands almost trembling. Loki made a small, fractured sound and Victor paused, his pulse pounding - almost, he imagined, in synchrony with the heartbeat encased inside the curve of Loki’s ribs. He wanted to simply plunge his hands in, take him apart one piece at a time until he was hollow. Could he regenerate organs from nothing? How far could Victor take him before Loki reached the end of his endurance?

Loki snarled something that sounded like a curse. Victor did not bother to look at him, pulling on his gloves. “Remarkably similar physiology,” he said aloud. “What is the relation between Aesir and humanity, I wonder?” Loki said nothing, breathing shallowly through his nose. Victor pressed his fingers lightly against what he presumed was the liver, and Loki’s eyes closed. Doom could feel him trembling. For a moment he simply held still, hands buried in the warmth of Loki’s entrails, almost dizzied by the feeling of power. The same feeling he’d had, the first time he’d reached for magic and found it there, waiting: the sense of being on the edge of something great, almost beyond understanding.

But he _would_ understand this.

“How does it feel?” He asked, hoping his tone would not betray the feeling of near reverence that swept over him.

“Get - your filthy - hands off me,” Loki bit out. For the first time, Doom wished he could see his smile.

He began gently, exploring, feeling his way through Loki’s body. Blood made his hands slippery but he was careful, slow, taking his time. There was no rush. He cradled Loki’s stomach in his hands and felt Loki stop breathing, his body quivering. Victor removed his hands and rested his bloody palm on Loki’s cheek.

“Do you fear death?” He asked, genuinely curious. “I suppose to beings like yourself death must seem a rare and strange thing.” Loki said nothing. Victor was almost disappointed. “I do not intend to kill you,” he said. “Not for some time, anyway. Though I suppose that might not seem a boon, in your position.” Still nothing. Victor let his fingers trail down to Loki’s throat, finding his pulse. “In which case, if you tell me all I wish to know perhaps I might ease your suffering.”

Loki’s closed eyes opened. “What you - what you wish to know? That you are a - _pathetic_ mortal sorcerer with his - _cobbled together_ machines and magic - who thinks - who thinks he can become a god? That you are - _ah_ \- a sad little man destined to die like all the rest of your scuttling kin-”

He broke off suddenly, and it was only that that made Victor realize his fingers were locked around Loki’s throat and squeezing. He let go, angry at himself for such a loss of control, but after a moment peeled off the glove and donned one of his gauntlets to strike Loki across the face. His head snapped to the side, a faint spatter of blood from his torn lip leaving drops on the table. Anger and something like lust throbbed in Victor’s belly, looking at Loki as he panted, skin sheened with sweat, laid out like an anatomical doll but living, breathing, bleeding.

Then Loki smiled, and he realized too late that Loki had been distracting him.

One of his arms jerked free and Loki moved, skin tearing away from the pins, lunging toward Victor-

He triggered the collar and Loki cried out but stayed standing, clawing at the restraint on his other arm. Victor triggered it again and this time it was enough, Loki’s knees buckling. He fell, stopped from hitting the ground by his still bound arm, the other folded over his stomach, holding himself together.

Victor moved over and Loki looked up at him and snarled. “You cannot hold me forever,” he said, voice thick with pain and hate.

“Can I not?” Victor asked. A third shock sent Loki into unconsciousness. Doom lifted him back to the table, grimacing at the mess Loki had made of his work. He bound his other arm again, this time checking more carefully that the restraints were snug. He increased the dose of inhibiting formula and added slightly more of the paralytic agent, noting the changes alongside his careful drawings of Loki’s internal landscape. 

Victor could not afford to be careless. Even a hobbled Loki was still dangerous. He should not have let himself be distracted. He flexed his fingers, studying Loki’s body. There was something of the ruined temple about him like this, Victor thought. A kind of desecration, or iconoclasm.

Looking at the blood spattered on the table and the floor, a wild part of Victor remembered the electric tang of it on his tongue. Were he a bit more of a barbarian, Victor reflected, he would wonder if the experience would be different, taken directly from the vein. He imagined it, though in Victor’s mind Loki offered his neck, surrendering himself.

Doom collected himself and began collecting samples, sealing each specimen carefully away for later examination. _A man who thinks he can become a god,_ Loki had said.

No. He would do better than that. A god required believers, followers, rituals.

Victor von Doom stood alone.


End file.
